a haiku by W.H. Auden
by richibi
in trying to find this poem on the Internet after I’d come
upon it in the New Yorker, November 14, 2011, I settled
upon this unlikely site which gave the work enormous
context
Colin Keenan pays heartfelt tribute to his friend, Wes
Wehmiller, both of them to me unknown
in preparing us for the poem Keenan says,
“Auden came to understand that the essence
of prayer is not to talk to God, or to ask for
something, but to listen. I think that faith is
simply the ability to understand the language
that is spoken.”
upon it in the New Yorker, November 14, 2011, I settled
upon this unlikely site which gave the work enormous
context
Colin Keenan pays heartfelt tribute to his friend, Wes
Wehmiller, both of them to me unknown
in preparing us for the poem Keenan says,
“Auden came to understand that the essence
of prayer is not to talk to God, or to ask for
something, but to listen. I think that faith is
simply the ability to understand the language
that is spoken.”
I think it is a profoundly insightful comment, it’s how I
listen in fact to music, for its easier access to the too
often too evanescent otherwise sublime, the mystical,
the miraculous
Richard
While lots of folks, including critics who should know better, describe Auden’s 17-syllable late poems as haiku, in fact they lack the seasonal reference that is essential. This is not to disparage Auden’s poem or the sentiment behind it.
thanks very much for your comment, Larry, but I wouldn’t mind more information about “the seasonal reference that is essential”
as well, I’d like to know for whom, or for what, is “the seasonal reference” essential, the “critics who should know better” or Auden’s “late poems”, the pronoun “they” in your comment is ambiguous
cheers, Richard